“Standard Coltrane” consists of tracks recorded in 1958 but only released in 1962 to capitalize on Coltrane’s growing popularity throughout the 60s. The material on the album consists of well known music from Broadway or films, mostly ballads, recorded with the bulk of the Miles Davis band of the day: Wilbur Harden on trumpet and flugelhorn, Red Garland on piano, bassist Paul Chambers and drummer Jimmy Cobb. This is a prime example of Coltrane in the middle of his signature “sheets of sound” period.

Dakar was one of the early albums from Prestige on which John Coltrane played. While not the lead musician on the recording, Prestige marketed the album as such due to Coltrane’s rapidly-rising fame as a soloist.

For this classic encounter, Duke Ellington “sat in” with the John Coltrane Quartet for a set dominated by Ellington’s songs; some performances have his usual sidemen (bassist Aaron Bell and drummer Sam Woodyard) replacing Jimmy Garrison and Elvin Jones in the group. Although it would have been preferable to hear Coltrane play in the Duke Ellington orchestra instead of the other way around, the results are quite rewarding. Their version of “In a Sentimental Mood” is a high point, and such numbers as “Take the Coltrane,” “Big Nick,” and “My Little Brown Book” are quite memorable. Ellington always recognized talent, and Coltrane seemed quite happy to be recording with a fellow genius. (more…)

Considered by many to be his finest single album, Coltrane finds John Coltrane displaying all of the exciting elements that sparked brilliance and allowed his fully formed instrumental voice to shine through in the most illuminating manner. On tenor saxophone, he’s simply masterful, offering the burgeoning sheets of sound philosophy into endless weavings of melodic and tuneful displays of inventive, thoughtful, driven phrases. Coltrane also plays a bit of soprano saxophone as a primer for his more exploratory work to follow. Meanwhile, bassist Jimmy Garrison, drummer Elvin Jones, and especially the stellar McCoy Tyner have integrated their passionate dynamics into the inner whole of the quartet. The result is a most focused effort, a relatively popular session to both his fans or latecomers, with five selections that are brilliantly conceived and rendered. “Out of This World,” at over 14 minutes in modal trim, is a powerful statement, stretched over Tyner’s marvelous and deft chords, the churning rhythms conjured by Jones, and the vocal style Coltrane utilizes as he circles the wagons on this classic melody, including a nifty key change. “Tunji” is a mysterious, easily rendered piece in 4/4 which speaks to the spiritual path Coltrane tred, a bit riled up at times while Tyner remains serene. Hard bop is still in the back of their collective minds during “Miles’ Mode,” a sliver of a melody that jumps into jam mode in a free-for-all blowing session, while the converse is to be found in Mal Waldron’s “Soul Eyes,” the quintessential ballad and impressive here for the way Coltrane’s holds notes, emotion, and expressive intellectuality. On soprano you can tell Coltrane is close to taking complete control of his newly found voicings, as a playful, jaunty “The Inch Worm” in 3/4 time is only slightly strained, but in which he finds complete communion with the others. Even more than any platitudes one can heap on this extraordinary recording, it historically falls between the albums Olé Coltrane and Impressions — completing a triad of studio efforts that are as definitive as anything Coltrane ever produced, and highly representative of him in his prime.

This set documents the four-night stand by John Coltrane (sax) and his quintet at the Village Vanguard in New York City, November 1 — 5, 1961. Although these are not newly discovered tapes — as the majority of the selections have turned up on no less than five separate releases — their restoration is significant in assessing motifs in Coltrane’s [read: multi-show] live appearances. Coltrane is accompanied by an all-star ensemble of Eric Dolphy (alto sax/bass clarinet), Garvin Bushell (oboe/contrabassoon), Ahmed Abdul-Malik (oud), McCoy Tyner (piano), Jimmy Garrison (bass), Reggie Workman (bass), Elvin Jones (drums), and Roy Haynes (drums). Their presence is as equally vital as Coltrane’s — inspiring as well as informing the dimensions of improvisation. With the knowledge that the entire run was being documented to create some sort of retail document, Coltrane chose nine specific compositions to concentrate on. The choice of material likewise had a tremendous impact on the personnel of the band — evidenced by Bushnell’s contributions during “Spiritual” and Abdul-Malik’s within the context of the extended “India.” Each set bears its own distinctive shading and emphasis. Parties wishing to hear the run in its entirety are encouraged to check out the multi-disc Complete 1961 Village Vanguard Recordings (1997) as there are multiple takes of the same songs. This allows even the most unsophisticated jazz consumer the opportunity to note the difference in the various versions, while contrasting the player’s widely diverse performance styles. The highly recommended box set also includes a nine-panel fold out poster, 48-page liner notes booklet — with a complete discography for the included material — and other ephemera, such as rarely published photographs.

Released in 1964, this John Coltrane hybrid mixes three concert tracks with two studio pieces, one of which is the famous tribute Alabama. The live tunes come from an October 1963 show at Birdland in New York City while the two studio songs were recorded the following month. Even though not entirely live, the album was ranked at number seven on the All About Jazz list of the 10 best live jazz recordings.

This set is drawn from a February 15, 1967, recording session one of John Coltrane’s last days in the studio. The tapes had been in Alice Coltrane’s care since the recording, and she gave titles to the pieces, overseeing their release on CD in 1995. All are previously unreleased with the exception of “Offering” which appeared on Expression. As on that release, there’s evidence here that Coltrane’s relentless musical search was drawing him ever further out. The performances are shorter, focused, with a magisterial lyricism seamlessly integrated with exclamatory shrieks and cries. There is an aching, though rough-hewn, beauty to Coltrane’s playing on these tracks. With the exception of “Tranesonic” where he is on alto, he plays tenor sax throughout. His command of the instrument from the very bottom of the low register to the stratospheric heights of the altissimo is staggering note in particular his “duet” with himself on “Sun Star” where he questions and answers with himself on the extreme ranges of the horn. There’s a depth and wisdom to these recordings that only further extends the Coltrane legacy.

In the context of the decades since his passing and the legacy that’s continued to grow, John Coltrane’s Selflessness album bears an odd similarity to Bob Dylan’s autobiographical book Chronicles. In Chronicles, Dylan tells the tale of his beginnings, jumping abruptly and confoundingly from his early years to life and work after his 1966 motorcycle accident, omitting any mention of his most popular and curious electric era. The contrast between these two eras becomes more vivid with the deletion of the years and events that bridged them. Released in 1965, Selflessness presents long-form pieces, likewise from two very distinct and separate eras of Coltrane’s development. The album’s first two-thirds was recorded at the 1963 Newport Jazz Festival and consists of an amazingly deft rendition of Coltrane’s take on the Rodgers & Hammerstein classic “My Favorite Things” as well as the glowingly affectionate “I Want to Talk About You.” Coltrane is backed on these numbers by the classic lineup of McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison, and Roy Haynes, and the quartet absolutely crackles with the flowing joy that characterized its sound. Tyner especially sparkles in his extended spotlight moments on “My Favorite Things,” arguably the best version Coltrane put to tape of this favorite. Fast forwarding two years to 1965, the 14-plus-minute extended atmospherics of “Selflessness” find Coltrane ramping up to the free-form spiritual style that he would work in for the short remainder of his life. The large ensemble on this date included Pharoah Sanders’ blistering tenor and Elvin Jones’ sputtering drums working alongside second drummer Frank Butler as well as the reverb-doused percussion sounds of Juno Lewis. The sprawling and sometimes aimless meditation comes off a little dippy as a result of the production and low-key playing, but it hints at a direction that would be fully articulated later on records like Sun Ship and the gorgeous Concert in Japan. Though the rapid changes in Coltrane’s playing between 1963 and 1965 are thoroughly documented on other albums, taken as a whole, the contrast on Selflessness is striking. ~ Fred Thomas

Live in Seattle features John Coltrane at a concert in September, 1965 with his expanded sextet (which included pianist McCoy Tyner, bassist Jimmy Garrison, drummer Elvin Jones, Pharoah Sanders on tenor, and Donald Garrett doubling on bass clarinet and bass). Coltrane experts know that 1965 was the year that his music became quite atonal and, with the addition of Sanders, often very violent. This music, therefore, is not for fans of Coltrane’s earlier “sheets of sound” period or for those who prefer jazz as melodic background music. The program comprises the nearly free “Cosmos,” an intense workout on “Out of This World,” a bass feature, and the truly wild “Evolution.” Throughout much of this set Coltrane plays some miraculous solos, Sanders consistently turns on the heat, Garrett makes the passionate ensembles a bit overcrowded, Tyner is barely audible, Garrison drones in the background, and Jones struggles to make sense of it all. This is innovative and difficult music.